


not to me, not if it's you

by mandjalorian



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: One Shot, Reader Insert, Short, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandjalorian/pseuds/mandjalorian
Summary: obviously inspired by that one thing. when i saw it last, i knew i had to write something mando-related inspired by it. i have literally seven very different drafts of this in my drafts folder. i’m cry.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Kudos: 124





	not to me, not if it's you

“You can’t keep traveling with me forever.”

You stopped breathing. You hadn’t been expecting that. The look on your face must have told the Mandalorian everything because he rushed to repair the damage.

“I don’t mean- It’s not that I don’t want you to.” His modulated voice was heavy, contemplative.

“Then why would I ever stop?” You were curious. And hurt. Your eyes glinted in spite of yourself.

“To have a life.” He shook his helmet, struggling to explain.

“ _This_ is my life,” you insisted, holding steady.

“Death?” The urgency in his voice was unexpected, but at the same time, had always been there. “Destruction? That’s not a life.”

You stared up at him, but you could feel his eyes evading yours under the darkly tinted visor. How could he not see himself the way you did? The kindness. The generosity. The _goodness_.

“I want to stay.” You finally managed, your tone uneven, ragged. “I want to take care of you.”

“Where’s the good in that for you?” He snapped, his calm facade unraveling.

You just stared. He was upset that you thought so highly of him, distressed that you saw someone worth caring for. When had he stopped seeing the good in himself? Had he ever?

“I’m a bounty hunter.” His words were cutting. “I accept money in exchange for freedom, sometimes lives, never asking questions.” He turned away from you, toward the viewport of the ship where stars passed at lightspeed, blurred further by the tears forming in your eyes. “That’s not someone worth taking care of.”

You approached him warily. He froze at the sound of your footsteps. Slowly, cautiously, you slipped first one arm, then the other, around his waist. You pressed your face tightly against his tattered cloak, against his warm, strong back. All at once you heard his heart beating, sturdy and fast.

His hand fluttered up, hesitated, then rested on your hands, clasped around his middle. 

“To me.” You murmured into his back, kissing below his shoulder. “You are.” You kissed as far up his back as you could reach now, on the tips of your toes. “ _You_ are.” You promised, kissing his back again. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he turned and melted into your embrace, pulling you into him tightly. You tilted your head up and kissed the warm spot between his helmet and his armor, willing him to believe you.


End file.
